S2 Episode 1: Survival of the Bravest
by GreyGregory14
Summary: One yahren after the Destruction of the Colonies, the Cylons attack the Fleet once again, leaving casualties that change daily operations and impact the lives of many. Will those left standing be able to push forward and outrun the Cylons once again?
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note:_**

 _Long ago, when Battlestar Galactica's future still looked bright, Glen Larson had a dream. He had ideas for a second season, some of which, in hindsight, were a bit haphazard, but some of which had merit in either content or direction. None of these ideas - the good, the bad, or the ugly - ever made it off of the drawing board before the show was unceremoniously canned. However, they were preserved in documentation that eventually made it into the hands of fans who, with permission, shared the gist of them with the world (as a quick Google search will reveal)._

 _Yahrens later - through the work of countless creative minds - cargo holds of novelizations, comics, and fan fiction have combined to give us new insight on the plot and characters of BSG that Glen Larson, as one man, could not have had in 1979. Having benefited from the insights of others, I would like to pay homage to the man behind the universe by using his ideas as a starting point for a new Season 2 in fan fiction. The plots of each episode will bear some resemblance to their inspirational counterparts, but with differences and enhancements to better serve the story I'd like to tell._

 _Since I am receiving no profit from these stories and since Larson's basic ideas are in the public domain, it's clear I claim to own nothing of the original ideas or the BSG universe. I hope my casual saunter into this realm shows nothing but respect for the man who brought one of the most enduring (and endearing) sci-fi shows to our homes and our hearts. RIP, Mr. Larson._

 **Season 2,** **Episode 1**

 **Scene 1**

Rigel had asked to be put on Bridge duty during the ceremony. She knew others would need to attend more than she did. More importantly, they would want to attend more than she did.

Her memories of the Destruction of the Colonies were full of numbness to emotion. She had performed her duties with focus and determination, continually pushing back her grief, knowing if she gave into it once, it would utterly sweep her away. Later, she had shed tears over individual deaths as they came, and even over the bone-weariness of spending sectons fleeing through space with nowhere to stop, nowhere to call home. But she never dared to grieve for their former home. All the tears in the galaxy couldn't bring closure to that gaping injustice. For her own sanity, she refused those thoughts when she could... and that included choosing Bridge duty over attending the anniversary memorial ceremony. Maybe next yahren she would go. One yahren was still too soon.

She sat atop the command platform in the Bridge officer's chair, switching between scanner feeds. Omega had given her a refresher on her duties the day before. At the moment, the Fleet was quiet as everyone who wasn't attending the event in the ceremonial hall was watching it on the IFB. One of the officers below her was playing the live feed at his station. Adama's voice rang from the speakers, the limitations of radio and audio tech barely dampening its rich tones.

"... divested of our homes, our families, and our very lives, as we knew them..."

She didn't have to be there to know that people were weeping all throughout the ceremonial hall. All throughout the Fleet. So many lives, changed forever in one day. What would they have been if they continued uninterrupted? What would Rigel have been? An ordinary com officer who married a handsome man and gave birth to children of her very own? What if the man she was meant to love had already been killed by the Cylons? Would she remain alone forever, with only a job to keep her company?

"... the brave men and women who have served us diligently throughout the Fleet, some in the cockpit of a Viper, some sitting at a control station, some working day in and day out to keep the basic operations of the Fleet functioning - all of you have played a vital part in our survival..."

Rigel sighed. At least she knew she was making a difference. Much of her job was helping the Viper pilots do their own job safely and effectively. She gave them the information and direction they needed to stay alive; in turn, they kept her and the rest of the Fleet alive. Adama was right; all of them worked together to survive. All of them were important.

She stopped listening to the broadcast and turned her attention to the scanners in front of her. Time for the routine sensor sweep. Two buttons to press - click, click - and the close-range scan of alpha quadrant showed only the expected ships of the Fleet, all traveling at the recommended distance from the Galactica. Click, click... beta quadrant, also normal. Click, click... click, click... gamma and delta equally uneventful.

Now it was time for the long-range scan. This one took a few more microns to fully develop, for obvious reasons. Rigel pressed a few more buttons, and long-range alpha began populating the scanner. Nothing of interest besides the dwarf star ahead on port side, which was still well out of the Fleet's intended path. A few more microns, and beta quadrant appeared with even less to offer.

When gamma first began to load, she noticed the blip at the edge of the screen. Thinking it might be a glitch, she watched as the full sensor image took shape. The blip was still there, accompanied by two more just like it. Rigel's heart skipped a beat. She leaned forward, furiously typing commands to zoom, isolate, and identify the objects. The velocity at which they were traveling had already made it all but certain by the time the computer finished bringing up the analysis and corresponding warbook information. Cylon fighters.

Rigel's stomach twisted. She took a deep breath and forced the words out of her mouth: "Cylons on our tail!Battle stations!"

The Bridge came to life as the officers on duty sprang into action.

Rigel flipped a switch, instantly drowning everything in red light. The alert was ship-wide; everyone on the Galactica would know, and soon, everyone else.

She picked up the Stentofon receiver the moment it beeped.

"Bridge, report," Colonel Tigh barked.

"Three Cylon fighters spotted in gamma quadrant, sir," she replied, the words flowing smoothly despite the pounding of her heart.

"Felgercarb," Tigh muttered. Then, to her, "We'll be right up."

Rigel nodded, even though Tigh couldn't see it. She hung up and returned to staring at the three Cylon Raiders on the scanner. But now, they were closer, and more Raiders were popping up behind them. Colonel Tigh reached the platform moments after the final threat appeared.

"There's an entire cohort of Raiders," Rigel told him, "and a basestar directly behind."

Tigh peered at the scanner. "Their timing couldn't be better - catching us in the middle of the anniversary ceremony. The Commander's working crowd control, but he'll be up as soon as everyone gets out of that hall to where they need to be. Warriors were dismissed first to scramble to the Vipers. When Omega gets here, I want you back at your station."

She had barely finished saying, "Yes, sir," when Omega burst onto the Bridge and sprinted up to the platform. Rigel gladly gave up her seat and took her own back from the officer who was subbing for her. Headset on. Coms active.

Warriors quickly took possession of their Vipers. She checked in with each one, sending them out in groups.

"Transferring launch control to Viper fighters. Launch when ready."

Rigel allowed a few microns for her own thoughts while waiting for more pilots to assemble. Another day for the Cylons to try to wipe out the human race. Unlike what Colonel Tigh said, this was not the best time for an attack. They were surprised, but not unprepared. Never again would there be a repeat of Caprica. The day they grew lax was the day they died - and that certainly would not be today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Scene 2**

"One on your tail, Apollo!"

Apollo quickly rolled down and to the left, shaking his pursuer off for a few microns. It was just enough time for the pilot who had warned him to come within range and fire a few shots at the Raider, blowing it into space dust.

"Thanks, Jolly," Apollo called.

"No problem, boss," came the reply. The words were flippant, but spoken absently.

Apollo executed a tight turn and set his sights on a new cluster of Raiders, trying to keep track of the chatter on the coms. Today he was both unusually distracted and focused. The anniversary ceremony had brought up a lot of memories he hadn't given much thought to in several quatrons. Standing in the ceremonial hall, surrounded by people of all ranks, vocations, and colonies, he saw like never before the one thing they had in common: they had lost everything, and now they were trying to rebuild despite countless obstacles. The Cylons surrounding them right now were the greatest obstacle in their way. They had done everything short of wiping out the human race, and they were determined to finish what they started. But the Colonists were equally determined. And the importance of the present moment plus the reminder of why they were fighting melded into anger that focused Apollo's energy on the fight at hand. Past, present, future: his mind held them all at the same time, and their collective weight bore down upon the lasers.

One fighter exploded in front of him. Another. Another. One for Zac, Ila, and Serina.

Apollo shook his head, prompting a bead of sweat to roll from his forehead down the side of his face. Today had no more room for those thoughts. It had been about thirty centons since the squadrons were deployed, and despite their best efforts, the sky looked just as full of Cylons as when they began.

When he found a moment to breathe, Apollo switched his scanner mode and watched the number of Raiders circling the Galactica. There were too many too close. The Cylons had pushed the rear guard of Colonial fighters, barely held together by Red Squadron, dangerously close to the rest of the Fleet. The Warriors wouldn't have enough buffer to stop a full-scale attack on the other ships if multiple Raiders broke through the Viper formations. Today of all days, they wouldn't lose any more innocent civilians if Apollo could help it.

"Blue Squadron," Apollo called, "get to work clearing a buffer zone behind the Galactica. The civilian ships are vulnerable to attack."

"Copy that," came Starbuck's quick reply as his Viper swooped in past Apollo and shot a line perpendicular to the stern, demolishing the Raiders in his path. Apollo followed his wingman to cover him, knowing Starbuck wouldn't wait around to see whether he had backup. He had been unusually terse and reckless this flight, and Apollo understood why only too well.

"Jolly and I've got the upper lip," Boomer reported, and two dots drew another path on Apollo's scanner, parallel to his own but much closer to the Fleet.

"I've got the left," Sheba said, immediately followed by Bojay calling, "I've got the right." Each Viper cut into the boundaries from their respective directions and began mopping up the remaining enemy fighters in between. They had a lot of space to cover, especially without backup, but they were also Commander Cain's best pilots and could hold their own. At least, that's how Apollo quieted his uneasiness.

Moments later, a Cylon fighter cut in from the right, through the empty space Apollo, Starbuck, Boomer, and Jolly had just vacated.

"Watch your tail, Bojay!" Apollo called as the Raider edged toward the Viper.

Bojay rolled just as the Cylons opened fire, barely missing his right thruster. Sheba was still approaching the Raider from the opposite direction.

"I've got this one, Bojay," she said over the com. But she was coming in too fast and straight. Apollo's stomach formed a knot, and he swerved around to try and catch up to Sheba to provide backup.

"Sheba," he said, flooring the turbos while watching her still-too-distant tail, "you've got to evade! You're right in his line of..."

The Cylon fired, and an explosion burst from the side of the Viper.

"Sheba!"

The Raider exploded. Bojay must have taken it out. Apollo was still too far to do anything but watch as the damaged Viper veered right. It looked as though the wing and thruster were gone on that side. The other two thrusters were still full open, though, since the Viper was running full-speed towards the Galactica!

"Lieutenant Boomer to Galactica," came his friend's voice over the com. "A Viper's been hit and is heading toward the Galactica from the rear too fast to stop. Prepare for impact."

"Sheba," Apollo called, "if you can hear me, veer left!"

No response. In microns that seemed like centars, the Viper slid onto the Galactica's hull and screeched its way across to crash into the Bridge, and then floated away.

Apollo stared in horror. His Viper slowed, and the frantic voices on the com faded into nothing. He was all alone: he, and the sky, and the tragedy.

"Sheba," he murmured, his mouth moving of its own volition. "Oh, Sheba..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Scene 3**

Chunks of debris slid off of Rigel's back and head as she rose from the floor. She coughed to clear the dust from her throat, took hold of her chair, and pulled herself to her feet. By that time, she'd easily identified the most immediate threat in the cloud of dust under the mangled bulkhead: fire.

Rigel's gaze swept over her surroundings as she quickly and calmly took inventory, the way she was trained to do. Her fellow officers at the support stations around her began to get up and shake themselves off, battered but intact. Everything from the command platform to the viewport had experienced only secondary fallout. The Viper had come from the rear and buckled the hull opposite the viewport. The entire wall of scanners was destroyed, jagged edges glinting in the light from flames erupting between it and the command platform. The officers at those stations had cleared out to the other side, all except for the station next to the platform... Rigel's breath caught. Lieutenant Athena.

"Athena!" the Commander called hoarsely, sitting up and clutching the railing. Omega lay on the platform floor, stirring, but his face was turned away, leaving Rigel unable to see his state of consciousness. Commander Adama pulled himself up by the railing with a wince and a groan despite one leg nearly buckling.

Rigel glanced from him to her station and froze. Her duty was to re-establish communication with the Viper pilots, or, if the connection had broken, to fix it or find a workaround. At the same time, someone needed to take care of the emergency that was growing more urgent by the micron. The Commander looked like he had half a mind to join his daughter in the flames at any moment.

Rigel ran to the other side of the platform just as a blue uniform emerged from the fire. Stumbling backward, Colonel Tigh collapsed on the ground just clear of the flaming workstation, a charred form in his arms.

"Commander, wait." Omega appeared in time to grip the man's arm, holding him upright and keeping him on the right side of the railing.

Crouching, Rigel pulled Athena out of Tigh's hold, noting the angry red on his hands and the charred holes in his uniform sleeves. She dragged the Lieutenant a safe distance from the fire, and two other officers placed a barely conscious Tigh next to her. The sound of boraton spraying out of a cannister told her others were fighting the fire.

"Call the Life Station," she ordered the officers nearby in case no one had taken that initiative yet. "And someone take over my com."

Dropping to her knees, she examined Athena. Her face was burned almost beyond recognition from the nose down and only slightly less above. Hair and eyebrows singed off. Extensive burns on her arms and torso. Unexpectedly, Rigel felt a lump rise in her throat. Seeing a beautiful woman, respected colleague, and casual friend hurt like this… She took a deep breath and pressed her fingers to the woman's throat. Then, she stopped breathing. There it was again. Yes. Faint, but definitely a pulse.

She looked up to find the Commander approaching, leaning heavily on Omega.

"She's alive!" Rigel told them.

Adama drew close, and Omega helped him sit on the ground next to his daughter. "Athena," he whispered. He placed a hand on her stomach, where her uniform was mostly intact. "Hold on, my child. Everything will be all right."

"Clear the way! Clear the way!"

A team of medtechs led by Doctor Salik rushed onto the Bridge. In moments, Adama, Athena, and Tigh were surrounded, and Rigel found herself on the fringe of the activity. Dazed, she watched the med team load the victims onto stretchers and carry them out. Once they were gone, she looked around the half-empty Bridge. Omega held the command center alone and was already communicating rapidly over his headset. The rest of the officers were back at their stations. The fire was out, and nothing but a hulking mass of black, melted plasteen remained of Athena's station.

Rigel wandered over to her station. Halpert had taken over for her, and he looked busy giving instructions. She waited until he nudged the headset mic away from his mouth and looked up at her.

"You look awful," he said, frowning. "You should check in at the Life Station."

"I'm fine." The words seemed to become true as she spoke them. Determination straightened her spine and strengthened her shaky legs. The worst was over.

Halpert was shaking his head. "What's all this, then?" He drew an imaginary circle in the air in front of her uniform.

She looked down. Giant imprints of soot stood out on the tan fabric, with a little reddish-brown blood intermixed. Who had been bleeding? It wasn't her. "It's not mine," she said.

He took a breath as if to argue, then abruptly turned back to his console, pulled his mic up, and said, "Yes?"

Rigel suppressed a sigh. The sooner she could get back to work, the better she would feel. Standing around uselessly helped nobody.

"What?" Halpert spluttered, and Rigel shot him a warning look. Even an emergency was no excuse to give up protocol and professional behavior. The com officers had to maintain their composure to help the pilots maintain theirs.

"Please repeat," Halpert corrected. He frowned intently at his console for several microns, then nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Jumping to his feet, he called, "Bridge Officer!"

Omega appeared at the railing. "Report."

"Warriors reporting a sighting of a second battlestar. They're saying it's the _Pegasus_."

Omega slid back into his chair and began typing frantically. Rigel knew he was pulling up long scans to confirm the information. She and the other com officers watched him, waiting.

At last, Omega seemed to be staring at something informative. He shook his head a few times. Finally, he stood up and approached the edge of the platform and his audience.

"Long scan confirms another battlestar…" Gasps and cheers cut off his words. The noise quickly died down, and he continued. "As soon as it gets within range, we'll make contact. In the meantime, inform the pilots."

Rigel sighed, this time with relief. The news might be enough to give the Warriors their second wind and turn the tide of the battle.

"Perfect timing," she told Halpert as he returned her headset.

"A little too perfect," he said, unsmiling. In fact, he looked way too serious after the good news they'd just received.

Rigel slid into her seat. "What's wrong?"

"If Commander Cain is really showing up, he's just in time for the worst surprise of his life."

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't hear? That pilot who got hit and crashed into the Galactica - it was Lieutenant Sheba."

"Sagan..." Rigel felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. So many personnel taken out of commission in one day. It almost felt like the Destruction all over again. Then, a call came in, and Rigel had to push her thoughts aside to coordinate a landing for a distressed pilot with a damaged Viper.

 _A/N: Thanks so much to those who have reviewed so far! I always appreciate your feedback, and it also helps me have a sense of what direction things should go. Although the chapters for this story are shorter than my average, I'm also putting them out quickly, so I hope you are enjoying them as they come._


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I know, I know, I was just saying chapters were coming faster, and then you had to wait two months for the next one. Sorry about that. I've had a lot of life stuff to figure out, but now things are settling down and my muse is back. If all goes as intended, the following chapters will actually come soon as well. But I'd better not make any promises..._ ;)

"The _Pegasus_? Are you sure?" Apollo questioned the Bridge controller who had relayed the news.

"Confirmed," came the response over the com. "Commander Cain has made contact with the Fleet and is engaged in battle."

Apollo blinked a few times, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. At the same moment that Commander Cain was returning from oblivion, whatever was left of his daughter and her Viper was being transported back to the _Galactica_ , towed between Starbuck and Apollo.

Scans indicated that although the Viper had crumpled severely between the nose and the cockpit, the structure hadn't been breached. If she hadn't been too badly injured, Sheba could still be alive. There was no way to know for sure until they opened up the Viper. So Apollo had left Boomer in charge and recruited Starbuck to help him capture the wrecked Viper and tow it into the _Galactica's_ landing bay. He had just issued orders for a team of mechanics and medtechs to wait for them in the bay when the officer on the other end informed him that the _Pegasus_ had arrived.

As they approached Beta bay, Apollo focused half his attention on guiding the crippled Viper to safety and the other half on what would happen next. If Cain was back, making sure Sheba had every chance for survival was even more important. As the leader of Blue Squadron, Apollo was responsible for Sheba. It was his job to make sure her rescue was quick and effective.

As soon as all three Vipers had touched down, Apollo shut off the turbos, opened his canopy, and jumped into the swarm of trained professionals converging on the middle Viper. Through the warped canopy, he could see the upper third of Sheba's body slumped sideways in the cockpit. He circled the Viper until he could dimly see her face. Her eyes and mouth were shut, her skin white as death. No!

"Captain," a hand grasped his shoulder roughly, "we need some room."

Apollo swung around to see the head mechanic, Dole. He pulled out of the big man's grasp and with both hands grabbed hold of a muscular arm under the orange jumpsuit.

"You've got to get her out of there! Every micron you waste-"

"Exactly, which is why you need to back up and give us some room," Dole replied.

Behind him, a group of mechanics rolled over a large cart full of tools. Apollo backed up to the minimum safe distance and watched them use a laser torch to start cutting into the canopy.

"Apollo." Starbuck appeared at his side. He rested a hand on Apollo's shoulder, though more gently than Dole had done, while they watched the proceedings. "Are you okay, buddy?"

The hand on his shoulder was yet another distraction Apollo didn't need right now. "I'm not the one dying," he snapped, taking a step sideways to establish his personal space.

"Captain Apollo."

Apollo clenched his jaw as a dark-haired female medtech approached him. Why did everyone have to talk to him right this micron?

"I just thought you'd like to know, sir," she said as she came near, "your sister will probably pull through."

Had the floor just dropped out from under him? He could have sworn he was in free fall. "What are you talking about?!"

"You mean Athena's...?" Starbuck's voice went thin.

The medtech looked surprised. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought you knew. Athena, Colonel Tigh, and the Commander were injured in the crash and the fire on the Bridge."

Athena. Tigh. Adama. Who else had the Cylons tried to take from him today?

"W-what happened?" Starbuck pushed out the question Apollo lacked the voice to say.

"The Viper crash caused serious damage on the Bridge. The Commander was knocked over and suffered a sprained ankle and a concussion. He should be able to return to work in a few days. A fire broke out around Lieutenant Athena's workstation, and Colonel Tigh had to pull her out. His burns are treatable, but Athena was burned severely over a large percentage of her body, including her head. She seems to be responding to treatment, but it's too early to tell just what her prognosis for recovery will be."

"Lords of Kobol..." Apollo managed barely above a whisper.

The medtech gave them both a look of sympathy. "I'm so sorry."

Starbuck cleared his throat, but his voice still came out strained. "If the Colonel and the Commander are in the Life Station, who's on the Bridge?"

"I'm afraid I don't know that."

Shouts from behind her drew their attention. The mechanics had cut out a large chunk of the Viper canopy and were lifting it off the Viper as medtechs pulled a gurney near.

"I have to go," said the dark-haired medtech, taking a few steps backwards, "but I'll make sure they update you as soon as we know more."

She sprinted away, and Apollo began walking in the same direction. Starbuck ran in front of him and grabbed his arm, cutting him off.

"Apollo, we need to go see what's happening on the Bridge. If Omega's the only one up there, he may need help."

"Get out of the way." Apollo pulled free and walked around Starbuck towards the Viper, but Starbuck kept up at his side.

"Apollo, there's a battle still going on out there! The squadrons need tactical support."

"The squadrons are fine. They know what they need to do." Apollo squinted at the group of medtechs around the open cockpit. He'd have to get closer to see Sheba.

"Then we should get back out there. We've already lost some pilots today-"

"And we're not going to lose this one, okay?!" Apollo turned and yelled. "Sheba's one of the best Viper pilots in the Fleet and under my command, and fracked if I'm going to let her die!"

Greeted with stunned silence, he adjusted his volume and tone. "If you want to go back out there, fine. But I have a job to do here, and I'm going to do it."

He strode straight for the Viper without looking back. Starbuck didn't follow.

When he got there, the medtechs started pulling Sheba out of the crushed Viper, slowly and while exchanging short instructions. Her helmet had been taken off, and her dark gold hair hung down around the hands of the medtech supporting her head. Blood had smeared from between the thick strands onto her forehead.

"Is she alive?" Apollo called, coming up to the Viper. The medtechs didn't seem to notice. "Is she alive?" he shouted again.

The medtech closest to him and holding Sheba's left arm glanced at him. "Barely," he replied, and returned to edging Sheba's body out of the hole.

Apollo fell silent. Time slowed to the point of nonexistence as the rescue team pulled her out a few decimetrons, wrapped a splint around part of a limb, pulled a little further. Her face remained sunken and expressionless throughout the whole ordeal.

At long last, the tips of her boots appeared, and she was lifted and placed on the gurney. In microns, the medical team surrounded the cart and began to run with it towards the exit.

Apollo raced a short distance behind. He would do everything in his power to make sure Sheba pulled through. He owed it to the Fleet, the _Galactica_ , Blue Squadron. And the _Pegasus_.

The Life Station entrance came into view. The medical team disappeared through the door. Apollo was a few short steps behind. The door slid open, and a burst of urgent shouts, clanking, and beeping hit him like a wall. He stepped through the doorway and let the door slide closed behind him, shutting him in with the noise and the lights and the people he cared about who were fighting for their lives.


End file.
